Magick is Real
by Alex MT
Summary: I have a love-hate relationship with the tv show The Magicians (I have never read the books). I like the concept, but dislike the characters. I have therefore decided to "correct" the story. New characters. Sameish world. Ready. Set. Go.
The day I discovered magic was tantamount to a caveman discovering fire or a baby taking its first steps. Magic changed everything for me. One minute I was a disgruntled employee working for _XYZ Corp_ , and the next moment time froze. And I mean that quite literally, by the way. For a fraction of a second, everything around me stopped moving.

I was at a meeting. The second meeting my boss had called that day. The client we were trying to woo was coming in later that afternoon, and the entire team was doing a run through of our pitch. There was no real point to me being there. I was only a junior analysis, and would not be presenting anything to the Mexican firm, but everyone had to sit in. Chad's orders.

Our financial controller Brenda was finishing up her cost savings analysis in a dry, passionless monotone that succeeded in driving the rest of the team to boredom. Most of my coworkers were preoccupying themselves with something that looked like work. They were sending off emails or doodling on their respective notepads. I was fiddling with an ugly brass sphere Chad's secretary had purchased as a gift for the client. I had been given the task of presenting the sphere to them. When Brenda finished her presentation I was supposed to stand up and pretend to give it to the client, thanking them for taking this time to see us. Chad had wanted me to thank them in Spanish, but many YouTube videos later and I still couldn't say the frickin' phrase. So, English would have to suffice.

When it came time for me to stand, however, I dropped the sphere on the carpeted floor of the conference room. I was expecting it to roll neatly on the floor, but no it shattered in a dozen or so pieces. Just my luck.

Chad immediately starting shouting at me: "Of course you'd drop it, you bleepin' idiot. Well don't just sit there bro, pick it up."

I moved to the floor as fast as I could, picking up the metal shards with my hands.

I was joined on the floor with my one and only office friend Rebecca. She had a smirk on her face, which if it could talk, would say: "You goofus, look what you've done now." It was sweet of her to help me. Rebecca was awesome. She honestly did not give a fuck about how the other people in the office thought of her. She taught kickboxing on the side for fun, and was only doing this stupid job to save money for grad school.

"Almost done," asked Chad haughtily.

I picked up the remainder of the sphere, and in the process a smooth rock fell into my hands. It was unusually cold, as if touching snow that would not melt. I nudged Rebecca, but she wouldn't budge.

"Hey, Rebecca take a look at this?"

I looked straight into her eyes. She stared at me unflinchingly. She wasn't moving. I turned around and quickly realized that no one was.

I stood up, and to my surprise the rock became incrementally warmer. What was this thing?

Upon standing, I found myself face-to-face with Chad. His mouth was wide open, halfway through shouting some profanity. He was such an asshat. It would be one thing if he were an out of touch Baby Boomer struggling to adapt to shifting workplace norms, but Chad was a 37 year old bro. He regurgitated memes from The Office in between deadpan lectures on productivity, and somehow didn't realize the irony in that juxtaposition.

Worse, Chad was hot. He was an avid gym bunny who constantly remarked on his workout routine. Whenever Rebecca and I gossiped about him we would inevitably gravitate to discussions regarding his physique. The word cutout was used on more than one occasion, but now, here he was, standing lifelessly as though transformed into a mannequin. They all were.

"Is anyone going to say something," I asked, more meekly than I intended.

No response.

I glared at Chad. "Say something asswipe."

The room remained eerily quiet.

In that moment, I knew there were only two possibilities - either I was suffering from some sort of psychosis or the rock in my hands had stopped time. Insanity, however, plausible it might be was not an option I wanted to consider. And so, I opted to ignore that thought, and instead punched Chad squarely in the face.

It was the quickest and most pleasurable way to determine whether reality was really standing still. Yet as satisfying as the thought had been moments prior, I immediately regretted it. Not due to a sense of guilt or obligation, but because the pain was excruciating. I had been in fights before, and I was familiar with the throbbing pain that came with them. This, however, was different. Punching Chad's face was like running into a sheet of granite at top speed. My wrist went limb, and I knew instantly it was broken.

"Fuck" I shouted reflexively. I probably should have started with something a little simpler.

The rock in my other hand grew hotter, spiking at a searing heat. I almost let go, but held on until it settled back at a lukewarm temperature.

Chad hadn't budged in the slightest, meaning that the force it took to move paused objects was greater than the force it took to move myself. Interesting, and somehow the rock was venting that excess energy in the form of heat? Though, I suspected releasing it would have some amusing results.

I knelt back down over the carpet, and placed myself as best I could where I was originally positioned. I then let the rock fall out of my hand and onto the carpet.

The effect was immediate. I heard the force of my punch whack Chad in the face. He let out a terrified yelp. His normally perky tone replaced with utter confusion, as he collapsed to the floor.

"Are you okay?" asked Brenda. Other coworkers mumbling similar words of concern.

No one suspected what had happened.

I smiled, slipping the rock into my pocket with a shard of the sphere. This was going to be so much fun.


End file.
